Group Therapy Time!!! It's a Party!

Woo-hoo! The day is finally here! I was so excited that I fell asleep in my recliner, aka "home base," until Ell called and woke me up...30 minutes before I had to be north of the river that must be traversed thru the most heavily policed highway since we attacked the Baghdad airport road in 2003. I'm not kidding. I-65 from the Ohio River through Jeffersonville, IN has at least 40 cars of the Indiana Constabulary dedicated to speed control. In fact, I saw 3 semi's pulled over within the first 5 minutes of my passing into the Twilight Zone called "Southern Indiana."

 Coming home I didn't see any...but they were there, the nasty bastards! I'm pretty sure they use stealth technology because you NEVER see them until they are approximately 3-mm from your rear bumper, an occurrence that calls for that sudden, instinctive "soiling" of your shorts not unlike hippopotamuses flinging feces with their windshield wiper-like tails when two large males start fighting for mating rights. Considering the public and voluble bathroom habits of the locals, it must be quite thrilling to actually turn one's attention to the 1 to 3-ton incontinent beauties instead of white tourists in canoes.*

*Digression Warning  Did you know that hippos kill more people in Africa (the continent, not the state) than Nile crocodiles, lions, and Cape Buffalo?  Usually, the killers are males who are forced to live on the margins of hippo society because they are not strong enough to defeat the local "King of the River." Despite their overwhelming desire to get some hippo tail (ewww! gross!) they suffer a whoopin' from the local bad boy whenever they show up for "some action." As a result, when dumb, white tourists with pasty white legs take canoe rides into areas that serve as a refuge for the luckless losers (who are looking to kick somebody, ANYBODY'S ass), bad things can happen to the owners of those pasty white legs.  

"Ooh, that floaty thing with the pasty complexioned candies in it don't look so tough! 

Maybe we can make some sweet hippo love...if not, KILL IT!" !Tragedy ensues!

(Does anyone think I watch too many NatGeo or Discovery Channel TV shows? That was a rhetorical question, so you don't really hafta answer it, Meathead. And you know who you are, don'tcha!)

Anywho...I made it to the first meeting of a group therapy called: The Chronic Pain Group Therapy. Creative flair notwithstanding, the name could serve as a double entendre ( |änˈtändrə| noun  A word or phrase open to two interpretations, one of which is usually risqué or indecent)  since "chronic pain" could describe the state of one's pain. Or, it could be used to identify some asshole with whom nobody wants to interact. 


Either way (and depending on whom you ask), I was at the appropriate meeting. Specifically, we introduced ourselves, discussed "pain" as it relates to "suffering,"filled out some questionnaires, got some handouts that included daily tracking sheets of the type of pain and its impact, and we have to detail the efforts used to manage the pain over the years. Funny, the tracking/detail sheet didn't include any pictures chainsaws or handguns; therefore, I must conclude that the person who made it has never had chronic pain.  


The participants, all veterans and all men, ranged in age from my 46 to probably 65. One was a Marine rifleman in Vietnam, another was a Navy Corpsman (the Army equivalent of a medic) in Vietnam who later became an RN. Another guy wanted to be a SeaBee (CB for "construction battalion" because they were Navy guys who built roads, airstrips, etc., often while under enemy fire) but they wanted him to enlist for 10 years. He declined their "offer" and ended up...in Vietnam on a destroyer in the "brown water" Navy. This means his boat would deploy up rivers and other inland waterways (brown water) instead of the ocean (blue water). Remember John Kerry before the Swift Boaters went about assassinating his character? No matter where one's political loyalties/proclivities lie, most people who served on "brown water" boats in Vietnam saw combat. 


All in all, they are an interesting group of veterans who suffer from debilitating, chronic pain. I look forward to meeting with these guys for the next 9 Thursdays. I want, nay NEED, to explore other ways I can improve the quality of my life and become more accessible to my wife and children as well as my siblings and friends. In many ways, I want to become "the old me," flawed though it was. I doubt that is entirely possible, but the trek will most likely include opportunities for personal and spiritual growth that I must recognize and grasp when they present themselves. 


Now, if only I could find a way around those Speed Nazis on I-65...


XOXO
Ernst W.


ps-please find a way to contribute to the effort to aid the unfortunate souls in Haiti. It was the poorest country in the entire hemisphere before the awful earthquake hit a day and a half ago. Peace--JR